Triad
by 3hours
Summary: Willow comes home one day to find a nearly naked vampire in her girlfriend's dorm room. What the hell is going on? (For clarity, this fic is Spike/Willow/Tara. FFnet's character selection is being weird. Nominated for Best NC-17, Best Unconventional Pairing and Best Unfinished at SunnyD awards!)
1. Part 1

Willow fumbled around in her messenger bag for her dorm keys. She was home early due to her philosophy teacher's unexpected bout of appendicitis; the University hadn't been able to find a replacement resulting in the class being canceled for the day. After a grueling week of tests and laborious homework all Willow could think about was a nice relaxing evening with her girlfriend. It would be so much better than sitting through another lecture.

She let out a relieved sigh as she found her keys. Unlocking the door, she let herself in and dropped her heavy messenger bag at her feet. Tara's tiny place didn't have a hallway, the door just opened to the main room. Thus, when Willow slid out of her jacket and turned around, she couldn't avoid spotting the nearly naked vampire sitting on the bed in the corner.

"Spike!"

Her eyes all but bugged out of her head as her sight filled with him. All he had on was a blue towel that was draped around his hips and she was momentarily stunned by how well-defined his muscles were.

"S'not what it looks like." He held up his hands like he wanted to calm her down or hold her back and she was shocked at the worry in his voice. Spike was worried? About what? Her reaction?

"I should think not, considering my girlfriend is _gay_ and all."

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he lowered his arms. She held back a giggle. Well, well! The Big Bad was wary of little Willow Rosenberg? Then again, she wasn't so little anymore – she'd grown into quite a powerful witch, whom anyone ought to be worried about offending.

"What on earth are you doing here? And why are you naked?"

"M'not naked, pet." He smirked at her, his confidence and swagger instantly restored. "Got my towel, see?"

Yes, she could see all right. It wasn't one of Tara's big bath towels but a medium-sized one she used for her hair and it was only barely covering what needed to be covered. She was seeing way more of Spike than she should, but it was hard to avert her eyes. They seemed to have a mind of their own and wouldn't look away from the expanse of pale skin he was showing.

"Okay," she said, slow and patient. "Let me rephrase, then. What on earth are you doing here and why are you naked save for a skimpy towel?"

"I'm here for the Witchlet to _practice_ on." He gave her a saucy smile, but upon seeing her unimpressed face he nodded his head towards the opposite corner of the room, where Tara's easel stood. "Have a look. She's in the bathroom."

Refraining from commenting on how that didn't really explain anything at all, Willow walked over to Tara's art corner. This was where she kept her paints, brushes and other supplies, neatly stored in boxes arranged in a battered, old bookshelf. On the easel next to it was a pad of sketch paper with several sheets folded over the back. The one currently displayed showed a charcoal sketch of Spike. He was lazily draped in a chair, one hand hanging loosely down and the other resting behind his head. He was completely naked in the sketch, but the naughty bits had been skipped entirely, leaving the area of his groin oddly blank against the hard black of the charcoal.

Willow reached up and pulled down the previous sheet. Another sketch, pencil this time, showing Spike standing half turned away. The space where his ass should have been was again left blank. She pulled down sheet after sheet only to face the same thing. Naked Spike on the floor, in Tara's bed, on the sofa, all with an empty spot where the towel would have covered him.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Fourth time I'm sitting for her today. It's a once-a-week thing."

Before she could dwell on the fact that they'd kept it secret for an entire month, Tara returned from the bathroom. When she spotted Willow her eyes went saucer-wide and she began to stutter.

"I-I can explain!"

"It's all right," Willow hurried to say. "Spike told me about the drawings."

"Oh. Um."

"I wish you'd have told me, sweetie. I mean, it's not like I mind or anything. You didn't have to hide it."

"S-sorry. I-I just-" Tara cut herself off, took a deep, calming breath and started again. "I'm sorry. I know I should have said something, it's just... it's embarrassing."

Willow furrowed her brow. "Drawing Spike?"

"No. N-not that."

Whatever it was, Tara was unable to go on. A rosy blush spread over her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide behind her hair, leaving Spike to answer for her. He winked at Willow and patted the front of the towel.

"She's never seen a penis. In real life, at least."

Having followed his hand with her eyes, Willow felt her own cheeks heat up as she forced her gaze away. "Really?"

Since it seemed Tara was still too mortified to talk, Spike continued on her behalf. "Her teacher was real pleased with her drawings of chits, but criticized the blokes. Said she wasn't getting them right. Told her she needed to study the male anatomy some more. Get some more _experience_."

The way he said it left no doubt about the double entendre to his words and which one he personally preferred. Willow was used to Spike's way of talking by now and didn't put any weight on it. It was simply the way he was: constantly suggestive and flirting with, well, petty much anyone. She'd even seen him do it to Xander and Giles on occasion and figured it was only for the sake of riling them up; there was nothing Spike loved more than being obnoxious, after all. Thus, she'd decided, the best way to handle it was to nod, smile and not let it get to her. He didn't really mean it, after all.

Tara tried to compose herself. She straightened a little and took another deep breath to help combat her stutter. "I couldn't admit that I'd never..." She trailed off and bit her lip.

Despite half of Tara's face being hidden from view, Willow knew her cheeks would be bright red still.

"She recommended I attend this life drawing class in the evenings, but it was too expensive and I couldn't afford it."

"So you're practicing drawing Spike instead?"

"When I was over last month to help her move the couch she got from Goodwill, I saw the leaflet for the class. Asked about it." Spike caught Willow's questioning look and shrugged. "There were tits on the cover. Was hoping for porn."

"Long story short, he offered to sit for me - for free - if I did him the odd favor. Running errands during the day, picking up blood from the butcher and so on."

"I'd expected to actually be naked, of course. It sort of being the point and all. Witchlet's been too shy, though, so I wore a sheet at first. We've graduated to the towel now, and I expect at this rate I'll be starkers around Christmas and maybe by Easter she'll dare to actually look at it." He grinned wide. "Baby steps."

Willow couldn't help but laugh. It was clear nothing unsavory had been going on, despite both of them acting guilty upon being caught. She found the whole situation a little uncomfortable, sure, but funny as well. Leave it to Tara to arrange for someone to pose for her naked and then when it came down to it, not dare to look, or tell Willow about it. It was cute.

She smiled at Tara before turning back to Spike. "Why didn't you just leave your underwear on?"

Spike didn't reply, he merely smirked and shifted his gaze to Tara, whose blush intensified.

"He doesn't wear any."

"Oh."

To distract herself from the mental image that little revelation conjured up, she went back to the easel. As it turned out, trying to remove naked Spike images by looking at nearly-naked Spike drawings was rather counterproductive. Her lips felt dry all of a sudden and she quickly wet them.

"These are really good, you know."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, honestly, they look great! You've definitely improved. Has your teacher said anything?"

Tara's confidence grew under the praise and she straightened fully, no longer hiding her face with her hair.

"Yes. She came over to me last week and told me she was impressed with my progress." She gave Spike a small smile. "She also asked for my model's number and said she hoped I'd be filling in the blanks soon."

With the grin of a pleased cat, Spike stood and slowly stretched with his arms above his head, fully aware they were watching him. Once done, grin still in place, he turned to Tara. "Got time for one more go, I reckon." His tongue curled behind his teeth. "How do you want me?"

Willow's face flushed again but Tara merely laughed and pulled her hair back with the headband she used when she was drawing. And then, _and then_! After a small hesitation and to Willow's great astonishment, Tara flirted back.

"I don't know, I've had you on every piece of furniture I own at this point."

Part of Willow wished she could frame this momentous event in order to commemorate it. Tara barely managed to flirt with her (and only when they were alone, never in public) and here she was, bold as brass, flirting with Spike. Another part entirely sounded alarm bells and twinged with worry; _Tara was flirting with Spike_!

A very nearly naked Spike. Whom she'd been having secret meetings with.

Yet at the same time, Willow knew Tara would never go behind her back like that. And not just because Spike was decidedly male, either; Tara simply didn't have it in her to cheat, lie or do anything she perceived as bad or mean. It was nothing but Willow's own insecurities flaring up, familiar of old from the days when Oz had been spending time with Veruca.

"I know," she heard herself say to distract both them and herself. "Come stand here."

Spike sauntered over and allowed her to manipulate his arms up above his head. When he'd stretched earlier, she'd marveled at the way his chest and stomach muscles rippled and she hoped to recreate it in freeze frame for Tara to draw.

It took some trial and error, but when she finally stepped back, she'd succeeded. One arm was held straight up, the other curled behind his head and holding onto the first near the shoulder. The pose bared his lean torso, making it the focal point, and made his ribs visible.

The only way you could tell Tara was delighted by the new angle - and she clearly was - was how she openly stared at him. In any normal situation she wouldn't have the audacity to do so, especially not with someone watching and Spike himself aware of it (not to mention his lack of clothing). When Tara lost herself in her art however, it functioned as a shield against things that would otherwise overwhelm her low confidence and allowed her to do them anyway.

Tara sucked on her lower lip and set to work. Willow watched as she quickly sketched the rough outline of the body before she started to focus on the head. It didn't come as a surprise that Tara had little trouble with the face; she'd been doing quick face sketches of the Scoobies and Spike ever since she first met them. Willow had been baffled when she saw so many of Spike, but Tara had explained that his unusual bone structure made him a challenge to draw. At first she had failed miserably, so she kept trying until she got it right and by now she could easily bring his face to life on the paper.

Slowly but surely the rest of Spike's body began to take shape on the paper. Rough lines were replaced with more carefully considered ones, then became even more detailed as Tara progressed.

"I love the way you draw his arms," Willow said.

Tara paused her hand. "He has nice arms. Strong without being too bulky."

"Yeah, muscly but not like, overstated, body builder muscly."

"Exactly."

"Look good, do I?"

Both of them immediately averted their eyes, trying to pretend they hadn't been admiring said arms. After a moment to recover Tara resumed watching him, since she had to in order to continue her work. She smiled at him. "You know you do."

"Good enough to eat?" He wet his lips and looked expectantly at Tara, who giggled.

It was obvious he was doing it on purpose, but it was equally obvious he meant it in a good-natured, harmless way, passing the time while Tara drew. And after all, he wouldn't be Spike if he weren't incapable of going three sentences in a row without inserting some kind of pun or innuendo.

Once the drawing was finished and suitably praised, Spike grabbed his clothes and disappeared behind the screen divider separating Tara's small room into living room and kitchen nook. Seconds later the towel was thrown over the top. Despite not being able to see anything, Willow turned around to face the opposite wall.

"Same time next week, yeah?"

"Yes," Tara said.

"Um, is it okay if I come too, Spike?" Willow asked over the sound of a zipper.

Her question met with silence for a minute, long enough for her to worry that he _did_ mind, before he finally stepped out. He was clothed again, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans to frame his groin and a devilish grin on his face.

"Depends, am I making you come or is Tara?"

"What do you- oh."

Willow felt herself blush all the way up to the roots of her hair, while Tara unsuccessfully tried to hide her laughter.

"You walked into that one, Red." He smiled and reached for his duster. "It's all right with me, but keep it between the two of you, yeah? Otherwise I'll have to start charging admittance."

She was too embarrassed for words, all she could do was nod.


	2. Part 2

The week flew by in a flurry of assignments and research. Willow changed her philosophy class for an earlier one and freed up her schedule in good time for the next session with Spike. It had been a mistake to choose the evening class; the last thing she needed when she was tired and worn out from her other classes was to sit and listen to the professor's unusually monotonous voice, which seemed designed to lull her to sleep.

After explaining the change to Tara, she was treated to a raised eyebrow. Willow laughed and shrugged, saying she'd been meaning to swap anyway. Honestly, it had nothing at all to do with wanting to be present for the next private _un_-life drawing class instead. Tara made no comment, but there were half-hidden smiles and amused looks in Willow's direction which she pretended not to see.

Changing classes wasn't the only preparation Willow made. When Spike walked through the door Thursday evening he was met with a pair of carefully selected props laid out on the table. The fuzzy handcuffs were old and had never been used; they'd entered her life as a gag gift from Xander back when she was dating Oz. The silk blindfold on the other hand, was something she and Tara had played around with before.

As predicted, neither object fazed Spike.

"If you wanna tie me up and have your wicked way with me, you need only ask, pet," he said and licked along his lower lip in a purposely lascivious way. She did her best to ignore it.

"I thought they could make the poses more... varied. You know, keep them interesting for Tara and all. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all."

Spike undressed behind the divider while Tara got her charcoals and pencils out and put on her headband. When he came back out with the towel around his waist, he picked up the handcuffs and inspected them.

"Cheap and flimsy. Could break out of them in a second, but we'll pretend otherwise, yeah?" He made a face. "But this has got to go." And with that, he ripped the ridiculous, tiger-striped, fake fur covering off and handed the cuffs to Willow.

With the trim removed, they were suddenly far more sinister looking. She hesitated a little, but reminded herself that, appearance aside and just like Spike had said, they wouldn't restrain a vampire. Not to mention, he was willing; she looked up to find him proffering his hands to her. She brushed off the flutter of excitement in her belly as nerves.

Instead of cuffing them in front like he'd expected, she spun him around and tugged his hands behind his back. The cool metal closed around his wrists with two audible clicks.

"Don't want anything to be in the way, do you?" He nodded downward, indicating his bared front. "Practical."

She fought back a blush and instructed him to sit down on the coffee table, cross-legged and with his hands resting behind him. After making a few adjustments to his arms and putting the blindfold on him, she stepped back so Tara could begin.

While the now familiar figure emerged on the paper, Willow couldn't help but look up at the real deal in front of her and compare the two. Spike really did have an amazing body. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before; not even Tara's talented hand could fully do him justice, although she came close. Her reservations from the previous week had taken a holiday - or possibly left town for good, she wasn't sure - leaving her wishing the censored area was also filled in. She wondered if it would be as impressive as the rest of him, a thought which made her feel all kinds of conflicted and guilty.

All too soon, the drawing was finished. The handcuffs and blindfold came off and Spike stood there, waiting to be moved about again like her own personal, life-sized doll. The naughty kind of doll.

"Can we do another one where his body is stretched? I want to try a different angle," Tara said.

"Sure." Willow looked around the room. "Maybe we could hang him on the wall?"

"Oi! 'M not a bloody picture."

"No, I mean..." She went over to the wall next to the sofa and pointed up at a nail just below the ceiling which must have been used for fairy lights or Christmas lights in the past. "From this. With the cuffs."

Spike nodded his understanding and held out his hands once more. "Might not be tall enough, but we can try."

As it turned out, he was right. Willow stood on a chair beside him and he had to get up on his toes for her to slide the chain onto the nail. Tara brought over a stack of textbooks he could stand on so it wouldn't be too uncomfortable. Willow considered putting the blindfold on him again, but decided she preferred to see his eyes.

The result was worth the effort. Willow's breath caught in her throat at the sight; he looked like a captive or maybe a slave, completely at their mercy. If it wasn't for knowing he could snap the cuffs in a heartbeat if he wanted to, she might have dared to reach out and touch him.

A little surprised, she realized she wanted to know what Spike's skin would feel like; how cold it would be, how soft. He didn't have a lot of body hair, his chest was smooth and even his arms and legs didn't have much. At least not when compared to Oz, the only other male she'd seen up close with no clothes on. Her eyes kept returning to the scant trail of light-brown hairs between his navel and the towel, but each time she made herself look away. She wished she had an excuse to ogle, like Tara did.

Again, Willow felt conflicted. When she had gotten to know Tara and it became clear her feelings for the other girl weren't limited to those of friendship, they'd had The Talk. Because they'd each had their reservations, Willow had promised both herself and Tara to see it through to the end. Completely. And she had. She'd told her friends as well as her parents about the relationship, announced loudly that she was gay now and had stared down any and all disapproval with Tara by her side. She'd thought she'd never been more sure of anything.

She was no longer so certain.

The alluring tingle low in her belly was turning her life upside down all over again. Only this time because of Spike. Had she really been so wrong? Was she not gay after all? It wasn't like she hadn't enjoyed herself in bed with Oz, she acknowledged that, but being with Tara had been like entering a whole new world. A world that felt _right_.

Once upon a time she'd had all the answers. Now all she could find were more questions.

Tara lowered her pencil and spoke, interrupting Willow's contemplation. "Finished."

Spike did a small jump to get the handcuff chain off the nail and Willow unlocked them for him. His wrists bore red marks from where the metal had pressed against his skin. She had to hold herself back from taking them in her hands and rubbing them.

Like always, the drawing looked amazing. It was also hot as hell. Even the ones from before Willow got involved were, mostly due to Spike's patented I-would-do-you-_so_-hard expression in each one.

"You should do a showing of these and call the exhibition 'Innocent Pornography'," she said to Tara. "The poses are all sexy and suggestive, but without, you know, the indecent bits, it makes them oddly impeccant."

Spike chuckled. "Add accessories to compensate. A whip maybe. Some chains and ropes and such."

"Ooh, that gives me an idea." A grin spread on Willow's face. "Go lie on the bed."

While Spike made himself comfortable on top of Tara's comforter, she darted over to the kitchenette and fetched the coil of lightweight rope Tara used as a clothesline.

"I see how it is," he said and smirked as he adjusted the towel. "Tying me down, are we?"

"Nothing you haven't done before, I'm sure."

She sat up on the bed beside him and bound his right hand to the bedpost. When she leaned over him to get to the left one, he looked up at her with hooded eyes and deliberately, she was sure of it, curled his tongue behind his teeth.

"You'd be right about that."

With sudden clarity, she realized getting up on the bed with him had been an extraordinarily bad idea. His nearly naked body was somehow more naked when she was hovering above him and the way he looked at her was not helping matters. She swallowed and was about to say something probably dumb when Tara cut in.

"Wait! Willow, take off your top and jeans."

There was no way she could have heard that right. "What?"

"Just like that! Take your clothes off and get on the bed, _exactly_ like you are now."

"...Seriously?"

Tara nodded, eyes shining. "You don't have to take off your underwear, I can draw those parts blindfolded. It's the pose. It's amazing. I have to draw it." She made an encouraging gesture at Willow's clothes. "Just go with me on this one."

"Uh, okay."

Stunned but not objecting, not when Tara was so clearly struck with inspiration, Willow slid off the bed and began removing her shirt. Spike helpfully became engrossed in the chipped nail polish on his free hand, for which she was grateful. While it solved the problem of undressing in front of him, there was nothing in the world that could make climbing back up on the bed and over him any easier.

She'd never felt more self-conscious than in that moment, stepping out of her jeans and socks to get back on the bed beside Spike. A shiver went through her at the first skin on skin contact: her knee against his waist. She was all too aware her bra-clad breasts were right in front of his face when she leaned in to once more to grab his wrist and the rope in her hands.

"That's it!" Tara said just as Willow looked down at Spike. "Don't move, it's perfect."

Of course it was. Willow's skin flushed with embarrassment, but she held on to her position. Spike on the other hand, appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. His eyes raked down her body in a way she swore she could almost feel.

"If I get hard it's not my fault. This wasn't my idea."

She swallowed with some difficulty. "No, no, I totally understand. It's no big deal. Uh, I mean, I'm sure it's, uh, big, but- I'll just shut up now."

He winked at her, which made her blush even more. She wanted to turn away and hide how awkward she felt, but couldn't. Posing meant she had to stay still no matter what or risk Tara getting upset.

As the minutes went by, she relaxed and began to feel a little more comfortable. Spike kept stealing glances at her cleavage, but she didn't feel like she could blame him given their particular position. She was wearing a plain, blue, satin bra, but it was the push-up kind, ensuring that everything her small breasts had to offer were on prominent display.

In return, she took the opportunity to study his facial features. His eyes were intense and too blue; you could get lost in them if you weren't careful. His cheekbones were worthy of a Greek God. All angelic now, but devilish in his other face.

She'd seen his demonic visage plenty of times, more than enough to picture it clearly in her mind. Somehow he was beautiful even then, despite the feral eyes and harsh ridges. His lips were perfect in either face, full and sensual. She wondered if he would be a good kisser and decided it would be a crime against humanity if he wasn't.

The tingle in her belly upgraded to a flutter. She felt warm and possibly - maybe - just a little bit turned on.

Perhaps her attraction to Spike had more to do with him being a vampire than being male. They were described as alluring in most of the mythology, after all. The thought should have upset her, but didn't. It wasn't like he had a soul-curse, and the chip made him safe. It had been a long time since she'd been scared by his presence, instead she felt the exact opposite. He'd saved her life more than once and, despite his inevitable objections were she to say so publicly, she knew deep down he cared about her.

That said, Spike was undeniably masculine. There was just something about him, something inherently male. It was funny really, considering how he wasn't a very large man, neither in height nor width. His dyed hair and affinity for nail polish also tended to make more manly men scoff in his direction whenever he was at the Bronze, but one look from him and they always found something else to preoccupy them. All good Sunnydale-ites knew to stay clear of those whose eyes glinted yellow.

"Would you believe me if I said I've been here before?"

Her eyes flew up from his mouth to meet his. "Huh?"

"Only in dreams, sadly."

"Wait, you've dreamt about me?"

This was news to Willow and somehow she couldn't quite believe it. Spike thought of her like that? He'd had sex dreams about _her_, with her tying him up?

"Sure," he said.

"Really?" She hated herself for being so insecure, but had to ask. It was just too out there.

"Yeah."

Willow's mind reeled as it dawned on her there might have been more to Spike's flirting than she'd thought, but before she could inquire about the details of said dreams, he changed the topic on her.

"So, you've posed for Tara before, have you?" He lowered his voice and nodded towards her cleavage. "Without the lacy bits covering up the goodies?"

"How did you-"

"She said she could draw you blindfolded, figured it meant she'd done it before."

"Oh. Um. Yeah, I've posed for her a few times."

"Can I see?"

"Why?" She realized the stupidity of her question when he just smirked at her. "I mean, you've ogled plenty already. I'm sure you can, uh, picture the rest."

"When Tara draws, she draws what she sees. Not what I see. It's different. You're one sexy bint, but I imagine when she draws you, you look soddin' spectacular."

"That's because she _is_ spectacular," Tara said.

Willow jumped on the chance to change the subject matter. "Almost done?"

"Just about. You can untie him and come see."

She hurried to loosen the knots and get up, eager to put a little distance between them.

When she saw the way they looked on the paper, she understood why Tara insisted she pose with Spike. Although her body blocked the view of Spike's manhood and was turned away so nothing of hers could be seen either, the way they were arranged and - most importantly - the way they were looking at each other caused the picture to be charged with sexual tension. It was easy to imagine what was about to happen in the world of the sketch and the pleasures it would involve.

Willow realized she was squeezing her thighs together at the thought and did a little side-step to make herself stop. She wasn't all that surprised to feel the slickness of arousal between her legs but tried not to think about it. Spike gave her a curious look, but turned back to Tara without saying anything.

"What's next, boss?"

Tara reached for the rope and looked at Willow. "Um, sweetie, is it all right if I...?"

"Go ahead, it's fine."

Moments later, her wrists and ankles were being bound. She'd become a doll, like Spike, waiting to be positioned by the master's hand. She was placed on her knees with her hands behind her back. Tara didn't use the full length of the rope, she left a fair bit of one end which she gave to Spike and moved him to stand behind Willow. When Tara told him to, he pulled it tight, like a leash.

Willow let out a nervous giggle.

"What's so funny?" Spike asked.

"Just that, you know, if anyone saw these drawings they'd have no idea it was all staged, and I'm all about girl on girl."

Spike cleared his throat but held his tongue.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what is it?" When he still didn't speak, she pushed some more. "If there's something you wanna say, say it. We're all friends here."

He held back a bit longer, but relented in the end with a sigh. "Know you're both big on the whole 'gay now', and that's fine. Nothing wrong with two chits shaggin'. But when we're alone here and you're looking at me... You both get hot and bothered."

"Do not."

Willow's reply came right away and without much thought, driven by the instinct to defend herself and hide how she really felt. She lifted her eyes to Tara, but she seemed to be absorbed in her work and did not join the denial.

"No use in denying it, Red. Vampires can smell it. I know when you're on the rag, when you're turned on and when you've been shagged rotten."

"No way! Prove it."

She glanced behind her and saw the corners of his mouth twitched, but he managed not to laugh.

"Oh, love, I know _exactly_ what you two were up to before I came over. Tara's showered but you haven't. Her scent is still _all_ over you."

Tara's cheeks reddened, but she continued to draw. Willow said nothing, unsure how to process this new information and embarrassed at being caught in her lie. The thought of Spike always knowing put a damper on her mood, but, to be fair, he hadn't brought it up before, had he? All those prime opportunities he must have had to say something dirty or make a joke out of it or even use it to hurt and he never had. Not even once. Only now, when she was trying to convince him she wasn't wet for him.

Or was it herself she wanted to convince?

Her train of thought was derailed when Tara spoke up.

"I can only speak for myself, but I must admit looking at Spike, especially in the suggestive poses you made him do, turns me on."

The confession shocked Willow and her eyes widened.

"I didn't think you were interested in boys at all."

For a brief moment Tara appeared just as confused as Willow felt, but Spike saved her from answering.

"You humans. You're all so fussed with fitting everything into neatly labeled little boxes, and if someone dares to put a foot outside their box it's bloody anarchy. Vampires aren't like that. We do whatever we want, whatever feels good and whatever feels right."

Willow turned her head to look up at him. "If that's true, have you had sex with other men?"

He shrugged. "A few times. It's really no big deal to me."

"Willow, your position."

"Sorry." She returned to stare straight ahead again. "Wow. I never would have pegged you as bisexual."

Spike gave a snort and she bet he was rolling his eyes, too. "There you go with the labeling."

He cleared his throat once more and she could tell he had more to say, so she held back her defense. As much as she wanted to make it clear she didn't mean anything bad with her words, she was far too intrigued with this revelation to interrupt him. Images of Spike and another man writhing on a bed, limbs entwined and sweating, pushing, grunting together went past her inner eye. _Guh_.

"Lesson the first: I don't come with a label. I'm not gay, not straight and not bisexual. I'm _me_. Second: If someone turns me on and I want to be with them, I go for it. Without wasting time worrying about what others have to say about it. Sod 'em. I follow my heart." He paused and seemed to give it a second thought. "Except for when my pecker takes the wheel and it's all I can do to hang on for the ride. But that's okay, too."

"That's a very vampire way of thinking," Tara said, but there was a smile in her voice.

"Try it. Try anything you want. Promise it'll make you feel free. Happier, too."

"So basically what you're saying is," Willow paused to turn her head again and waggled her eyebrows at him, "we should jump your bones?"

Tara burst out laughing and completely forgot to scold Willow for moving.

Spike leered down at her. "If that's what you _want_, yes. But, if all you want is to eye up my hot, tight little body, then _that's_ what you should do. Without feeling guilty about it." When she chewed on her lip, something softened in his eyes and his voice went from saucy and suggestive to earnest. "As long as it's between consenting adults, there's nothing bad or wrong about it. And what goes on in your bedroom is nobody else's business."

While Willow mulled this over, Tara turned the easel to show she'd finished. Spike quickly undid the rope so she could get up and see, and she couldn't prevent a small gasp from slipping out. Willow's body had been fully exposed this time, and unlike Spike's naughty bits, hers were all there, expertly drawn from memory. To top it off, Tara had drawn Spike staring at Willow with an intense, lustful and _hungry_ expression. It wasn't difficult to imagine a completely different setting for the drawing, one in which she was his prisoner, about to be thoroughly ravished.

"Wow," she managed, slightly breathless.

Spike grinned at Tara. "Now there's a compliment. You've made the chatterbox speechless."

Purely on autopilot she reached out to shove him lightly in the ribs, eyes never leaving the evocative sight of herself tied up and at Spike's mercy.

"I don't know about you guys, but I really like having you pose together," Tara said.

Willow managed to tear herself away from the drawing long enough to respond. "I do as well."

Spike spread his hands to the side and grinned wide. "I'm all yours, ladies. How do you want me?"

She smiled at his eagerness and turned to Tara as well, bouncing on her feet with anticipation.

"On the bed again," Tara said after a moment to think. "Spike first. By the headboard."

Willow waited as Spike was guided to kneel by the pillows, but otherwise not posed in any particular way. Then it was her turn.

"On all fours, with your back to him, please."

"Oh, Goddess."

"No, no." Tara laughed. "Not like that, don't worry. Slightly tilted, so your legs are next to him, not on either side."

"Aww," Spike said, mock-pouting. "I feel cheated."

Willow crawled up on the comforter, turned around and backed towards the corner, right beside Spike. "Like this?"

"Almost. Turn a little bit more towards me. There, that's good."

Tara put one knee up on the bed to begin moving Spike. Willow couldn't see how he was arranged since he was behind her, so she settled for shifting her legs and getting comfortable in the meantime. A shiver ran along her spine when Spike's hand was placed high up on her ass, near her hip, his cool skin making her realize how hot her own was.

"Okay, now you."

Tara took Willows hands and busied herself with spreading them a little further apart, laying them out just so. Willow chanced a glance behind her before her head was positioned and nearly gasped out loud at what she saw. Spike was leaned slightly forward, one hand on her ass to steady himself and the other held in the air like he was frozen in time, mid-spanking her.

A glance was all she got, as Tara turned her head back around, tilted it backward and had her part her lips like she was gasping or crying out her pleasure.

"And close your eyes, please. Perfect!"

"Maybe not so cheated after all," Spike said. "This is nice. Definitely looking forward to seeing the sketch when it's done."

"Me too," Willow said.

With her eyes closed Willow couldn't see Tara drawing, but she heard the soft noise of the charcoal against the paper. It was strange, not being able to watch. Stranger yet to be so close to Spike and not have the slightest clue what, if anything, he was doing. For all she knew, he could be up to all sorts of no good back there.

As soon as her mind began heading in that direction, she couldn't stop. Maybe he was staring at her ass. It being Spike, he probably was. Perhaps he was thinking about actually spanking her. Or he could be touching himself. Running his hand along his sculpted chest, down past the towel to- Okay, not going there. Plus, she'd be able to hear it if he did, wouldn't she?

Regardless of her self-discipline, her body still responded with a fresh wave of arousal and she shivered again. In response, Spike began to run just the tips of his fingers in small circles over her warm skin. The featherlight touch made her swallow down a moan and she leaned into his hand. He took it as a quiet encouragement, which it was, and dug his fingers into her flesh, squeezing hard enough to surely leave behind a red mark.

"S'pose I should warn you one more time I might get turned on," Spike said, his voice low and slow. "But then again, neither of you are really in a position to throw stones."

Had she been able to bite down on her lip, she would have. She felt her face flush and was glad he couldn't see.

"Are you really surprised?" Tara's voice was somewhat unsteady. "You two, t-together. It's hot. I can't help it."

Hearing Tara admit it made Willow feel much better, no matter how weird it was. At least they were both experiencing the same thing; she wasn't alone in her attraction.

"Try being the one on the bed with him," she said. "And you can't see it from over there, but he's not keeping his hand still. You should scold him."

"Spi-ike. Behave."

"Sorry, Witchlet, just wanted to tease her a little."

"You've got us at a disadvantage. It's not fair," Willow said.

"How so?"

"We don't have your kinda-creepy sense of smell, so we have no way of knowing if you are, too. Turned on, I mean."

"Yeah, well, when I said might? I meant I already am."

"Yeah?"

Instead of replying, he shifted forward and bumped into her hip so she could feel for herself. Then he did it again, taking the opportunity to grind against her. The thick terrycloth did nothing to hide how hard he was.

"_Oh_. Mmm, yes, you are."

"It's handy. Helps keep this damn towel up; it's always threatening to fall off."

Tara laughed, but when Willow's eyes met hers they shared a silent wish that it would do exactly that.

Not long after, Tara declared the sketch finished. Spike waited for Willow to crawl off the bed first and she didn't think much of it until the palm of his hand landed on her ass with a loud smack. She yelped, more with shock than pain, and turned to glare at him.

"Too tempting." His grin couldn't possibly get any bigger. "Wanted to do that since Tara first had you get on all fours."

"Meanie."

She didn't really mean it and it was clear from the wink he gave her that he knew as much. For a moment she toyed with the idea of smacking him in return, wondering if she'd be brave enough to lift the towel so she could get at his bare ass, but Tara turned the easel around and distracted them both.

"Bloody hell, Witchlet!"

"You like it?"

"Oh yeah. So sexy, the way she seems to be moaning, wanting more..." His tongue curled behind his teeth and he shot an appreciative glance at Tara before returning to stare mesmerized at the drawing. "You draw us so well."

Realizing she'd been giving her best fish on land impression, Willow nodded eagerly to shake some sense back into herself. "It's beautiful. I never even knew I could look this good!"

Both Spike and Tara turned towards her with identical _duh_ expressions on their faces and she had to hold back a laugh.

"I want one of these to take back to my crypt."

This time she did laugh and Tara grinned at him, both of them knowing full well what he'd be doing with it.

"Hey, this is much better than porn. Fantasy come to life, yeah?" He paused and smirked. "Well, almost."

Once again he leered at her, raking his eyes up and down her barely clad body. A tingle went down her spine and she could feel the hairs on her neck and arms stand up. Her nipples soon followed. Eager to break the sudden tension between her and Spike, she coughed and turned to Tara.

"So, what next? Got anything in mind, sweetie?"

She knew the endearment wouldn't do much to deter him, but she felt she had to at least make a token protest.

"Actually, no. Not really."

Willow glanced around the room, considering the various pieces of furniture and their possibilities. Before she could come up with an idea, Spike held up the coil of rope.

"May I?"

"Sure," Tara said.

"Uh oh. Why do I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this."

"Relax," he said, which automatically made her do the exact opposite. "Go lie down on the bed for me."

As she crossed the room, she saw him reach out and grab the handcuffs out of the corner of her eye. She gulped, but laid down on the comforter anyway. Before she knew it, she was artfully stretched out and tied up in the shape of an X. Spike, unsurprisingly, turned out to know a fair amount about bondage; the loops around her ankles and knees gave her just enough room to wiggle without actually allowing her to move, keeping her legs spread wide open. Her hands were secured around the metal of the headboard with the handcuffs, leaving her helpless to stop whatever he planned on doing to her.

Not that she thought he would do anything he shouldn't. Or, more accurately, anything she didn't secretly _want_ him to do. It was better somehow, when she was tied up and unable to move. She had an excuse. A terrible one, of course, but an excuse nonetheless, and it eased her mind. She didn't have to worry about getting turned on by a male - a vampire even! - when she could pretend she had no choice.

Her musings were cut short when the mattress shifted. Spike was on the bed with her, towel still wrapped around his hips, and he was moving his knees between her legs. She squeaked out loud at the sudden and unexpected invasion of her personal space, which was all she had time for, then he was lying on top of her, as intimate as two people could be with cloth still separating them.

"You okay? Is this too much?"

She shifted under him, trying to make herself more comfortable and swore she heard him moan. It was a soft, barely-there sound and almost inaudible, but they were so close she'd heard it.

"I'm okay." She paused, trying to gauge whether she was, in fact, okay. "Just, uh. You're very happy to see me."

"Is it uncomfortable?" He lifted up a bit, holding himself up from her body with those strong arms of his. She missed the feel of his weight right away.

"No, no, it's all right. Just not used to it, that's all. It's been a long time."

He nodded and allowed himself to lie back down, grinding against her in the process and making her swallow down hard to prevent a pleasured noise slipping out. When she sought his eyes to try and read them, his eyelids fluttered shut.

The room fell silent; the only audible sounds were Willow's ragged breathing and the scratch of the pencil. Where before they'd talked or Spike had dished out suggestive remarks, it was clear all three of them were now too preoccupied with controlling their respective emotions to speak, much less say anything loaded. The tension was in the air, in Tara's slightly unfocused strokes, in Spike's closed eyes and in Willow's rapid heartbeat.

After a few minutes, Willow became aware Spike was no longer breathing. He usually did, regardless of the fact he didn't need to. She'd thought it strange at first, but over time she'd gotten used to it. If she didn't already have intimate knowledge of the fact, the sudden stillness of his chest spoke volumes about how affected he was.

She found it difficult not to move. His weight and his hardness against her had tingles running up and down her body, but tantalize her was all he did. He'd lit her fire and nurtured it strong, but he wasn't adding any more logs and it was driving her mad. She desperately wished he would do something, _anything_, to take the choice away from her and free her from her conflicted self, but he did not.

Soon Tara would finish and the moment would be lost. There would be other poses, but probably none as daring as this one and certainly none worse. Willow's mind swirled with actions and consequences, lust and caution. If she remained inert, the evening would eventually end and Spike would leave.

She didn't want him to.

Just as Willow had finally decided to try wiggling her hips to see what he'd do, Tara spoke.

"It's done."

Spike's weight disappeared and she was left feeling bereft of his closeness. She swallowed down her disappointment and closed her eyes while she waited for him to removed her binds. It didn't take long. She sat up and looked over at Tara, whose skin was flushed with a heat Willow suspected didn't come from embarrassment at all.

On the easel, the drawn Spike and Willow were locked in a tight embrace. Unlike reality, there was nothing separating them and it seemed impossible to imagine anything but a coital connection. The drawn Willow's back was arched, her head tilted back a little to show her pleasure.

Perhaps it was the sight of this other version of herself, heedless of ramification, that gave her courage. Perhaps it was the way Spike looked at it all entranced, like he wanted to be inside the drawing. Either way, Willow heard herself speak:

"Why don't you remove the towel for the next one, Spike, and I'll take off my underwear."


End file.
